


critical writings

by nevershootamockingbird



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Character Study, Established Relationship, Friendship, Getting Together, Kissing, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 10:16:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 12,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17181065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevershootamockingbird/pseuds/nevershootamockingbird
Summary: Here's a collection of some of my critrole prompts & drabbles from tumblr!Some of these are connected, some are not. More info and/or warnings will be on each chapter title/in chapter notes :)





	1. widomauk + realize

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: 'widomauk + realize'

It is such a small moment.

Caleb turns another page in his book, blinking to try and clear his vision. He sighs, smoothing the pages flat before pressing the heels of his hands against his burning eyes. There’s a chuckle behind him, and when Caleb pulls his hands away Molly is reaching over his shoulder, setting down a cup of tea. 

“You should sleep soon,” he says gently, but he doesn’t press, rubs his hand over Caleb’s shoulder as he pulls it away. Mollymauk doesn’t step away, a solid presence behind him, and Caleb wonders briefly when he begin to find having someone at his back comforting rather than frightening. 

“Soon.” Caleb sips at the tea, mint bursting on his tongue, and Molly laughs, squeezes his shoulder again before letting his hand slide away.

“That’s what you said two days ago,” Molly chides, but he sounds fond, amused, and Caleb smiles down at his cup, shrugging and reaching for his book again. Molly laughs quietly, settles both hands onto Caleb’s shoulders and then there’s gentle pressure on his head, a soft kiss that he has come to expect with quiet pleasure. The tiefling hums quietly, something unfamiliar and lovely, and Caleb shuts his eyes, wonders what it would be like to have this for the rest of his life. 

Oh. 

“I expect not to find you still down here in the morning, alright?” Molly says, and there’s another kiss to his head before Caleb feels him move away. His cheeks burn, and he swallows hard around the tightness in his throat, ignores the painful thumping of his heart. 

“Good night, Mollymauk,” he whispers, so quietly that he’s unsure his friend will hear. but the footsteps stop as he speaks.

“Good night, Caleb. Sleep well.” He can hear the smile in the other man’s voice, and then he hears Mollymauk finish his walk to the stairs, hears him ascend, and then it is just him near the fire, alone with his tea and his book and his thoughts. 

Caleb shuts his book, well aware that he will not be able to focus any longer. He traces his thumb against the rim of his mug, thinks about love and chance, about hope. 

He finishes the tea, peppermint clearing away the bitterness of old memories and damaged hearts. He is not who he once was, and Mollymauk believes in second chances. 

Maybe that will be enough.


	2. widomauk + almost kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: a Widomauk almost kiss
> 
> featuring: Mollymauk, Caleb Widogast, Nott the Brave

Molly finds him in front of the fire, hands curled around a mug of tea and a vacant look in his eyes. 

“Caleb? Darling, are you alright?” He asks gently, moving closer slowly until he’s sure Caleb can see him coming. The human lets out a quiet hum, eyes focusing as he looks over towards Molly’s shoulder. 

“Hmm? Ja, ja, I’m good.” He raises his mug to drain it, blinking slowly as he looks back over at Molly. The tiefling flashes a smile, takes a few steps to close the space between them. Caleb meets his gaze briefly before glancing down, setting his mug on the table next to them. “Sorry, did you need something?” 

“No, just got back in. Saw you and thought I’d check in.” He searches Caleb’s face as he talks, looking for any sign of distress; Mollymauk is rather pleased when he just finds a quiet weariness from travel. The wizard gives him a half smile, reaches up to run a hand through his hair, curls still damp from his bath. 

“Thank you, Molly, but I’m fine, I promise,” and two years ago, Molly would not have believed him. Two years ago, Molly would not have believed Caleb, would have smiled and accepted the lie and retired to bed with worry gnawing at his chest. They are not who they were then, though.

Mollymauk is absurdly glad for it. 

“Growing it back out?” He asks, reaching out to run his knuckles gently over the heavy stubble that covers Caleb’s jaw. His friend huffs out a laugh. flushes a little, and Molly pulls his hand back so that he won’t do anything stupid like grab and hold on and never let go. He won’t be the one to break this fragile  _ something  _ between them.

“Ah, perhaps. I was a bit too tired to bother with shaving,” Caleb admits, sheepish smile curling across his mouth, and Molly laughs, leans in closer. 

“Well, just between us, it does look rather dashing on you,” he says in a conspiratorial whisper, winking and grinning broadly. He expects Caleb to laugh, to roll his eyes and smile, to shake his head and bid him good night.

He does not expect Caleb’s blush to darken, does not expect Caleb’s gaze to drop down his mouth before sliding back up to meet his.

“Molly,” and oh, he says it like an offering, like a prayer, and it surges like fire through Mollymauk’s veins. 

“Right here, sweetheart,” he murmurs into the space between them, bringing his hand back up to cradle Caleb’s cheek. His friend tilts his head up, lips parting slightly, and Molly cannot believe this, begins to close the distance so that he can finally–

“Caleb?” And he instead pulls away hastily, turning to find Nott at the bottom of the staircase, scrubbing a hand across her eyes. 

“Ja, Nott? Are you alright?” Caleb takes a step forward, brow furrowing with heavy worry, and Molly brushes aside the frustration of being interrupted, concern sinking in his stomach like a lead weight.

“Can I have Frumpkin, please?” She asks instead, and Mollymauk frowns, takes note of the bags under her eyes, uneasy set to her shoulders. Caleb snaps his fingers and the cat appears around her shoulders, purring and butting his head against her cheek. Nott offers a smile that’s only a little off, one hand coming up to scratch under the fae creature’s chin. “Thank you. Don’t stay up too late.”

“I won’t, promise,” Caleb tells her, faint smile across his face, and when she looks his way Molly tosses her a lazy salute. 

“Don’t worry, dear, I’ll make sure he actually keeps that,” he says with a wink, and he is relieved when Nott laughs, shaking her head as she turns to scamper up the stairs. 

It’s quiet between them, then. 

“I, ah, should be getting to bed, she’s right.” Caleb twists his fingers together, eyes flicking to meet Molly’s before sliding away to stare over his shoulder, and the tiefling lets out a quiet laugh, nodding once.

“Sure, sure. Fjord’s probably worrying about me, anyway.” He smiles softly before reaching out slowly, telegraphing his motions just in case, but Caleb just lets him take one of his hands, lets him bring it up to his mouth to press a kiss to the knuckles. “Goodnight, Mr. Caleb.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Mollymauk.” There’s a blush on the wizard’s face, faint but  _ there _ , and Molly grins wider, winks and kisses his knuckles again before letting go of his hand and taking a step away. Caleb stands there, hand still raised, and Molly is still smiling as he turns around, heading for the steps with something fragile that feels like hope behind his breastbone. 

“Mollymauk.” He turns on his heel, finds Caleb still watching him, blush once again dark under his freckles. The human meets his gaze, what might be a smile playing at the corner of his mouth as he asks, uncertainty threading through his voice, “Perhaps, well, perhaps another night?”

“Sweetheart,” Molly starts, and oh, he likes that soft look in Caleb’s eyes, “I’ll be here any night you want. Whenever you’re ready.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Caleb says quietly, relieved and joyous, and Molly wants nothing more than to grab him tight, wrap around him and never let go. 

“Be sure that you do,” he says instead, smile wide and honest. 

He’s waited this long, Molly thinks as he turns back to ascend the stairs. He smiles to himself, that fragile hope blooming bright and steady in his chest. 

He’ll happily wait a little longer.


	3. widomauk + getting caught staring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: widomauk for the opening sentence ask meme? "he shone so brightly, and it was all he could do to keep his eyes open in the face of such light"

He shone so brightly, and it was all he could do to keep his eyes open in the face of such light. 

Caleb slowly shut the book in front of him, rubbing his thumb over the worn corner. Mollymauk sat across the table, a smile stretched wide across his face as he listened to the jokes and chatter of their companions, and Caleb couldn’t stop staring. 

He rarely could, if he was being honest; glances out of the corner of his eyes, keeping Mollymauk in his periphery, sweeping glances when the other’s attention was elsewhere, outright staring at moments like this when tiefling was practically illuminated, radiant, content and soft and happy. 

There was an ache behind his ribs that he was steadily ignoring; he’d grown quite good at it, these past few months. 

He glances down before Molly can catch him, stares down at his ink-stained fingers and cracked knuckles, a bit of dried blood stuck under his nails. He’s afraid to touch, sometimes, afraid of the smudges that he might leave behind, the stains that would appear after his touch. Molly’s goodness shines out of him, impossible to miss, even when clouded by doubt and sadness and hurt. Caleb is terrified of ever marring that, but gods, does he want to hold onto it tightly and not let go. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” comes a voice near his ear, and Caleb swallows hard, slowly lifts his head until he meets Mollymauk’s eyes, crinkling at the corner. Caleb is helpless to return the smile, shrugging his shoulders as he breaks eye contact, letting his gaze wonder over pale freckles, purple skin, swirling and stylized ink. “Come on, Caleb, what’s going on in that lovely head of yours?”

“Just thinking about the stars,” he says, feels the flush rising in his cheeks. Molly laughs gently, reaches out a hand to cover one of Caleb’s. 

“What about them?” He asks, and his grin is even wider when Caleb looks back up. He swallows hard, shrugging again, but Molly is content to wait, ever patient when Caleb needs the time to pull his thoughts together. 

“They are very bright, and very beautiful, and make me feel at peace,” he finally says, focusing on the weight of Molly’s hand over his, the softened smile on his friend’s face, the way the low lamplight of the tavern catches on the jewelry adorning the tiefling. Caleb licks his lips, gathers his meager courage and pushes on, “And they remind me of you.”

Mollymauk’s eyes shine brightly. Caleb thinks, rather distantly, that he could get dangerously used to such light in his life. 

He hopes, desperately, that it will never go out.


	4. widomauk + kiss for luck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: widomauk, 19. kiss for luck

“I think you’re forgetting something.” 

Caleb frowns at the words, cranes his neck back to find Molly standing over him. His partner grins down at him, tail lazily drifting through the air behind him. 

“No, that is not possible,” Caleb says as he looks back down, silently mouthing words as he looks over the items gathered in front of him. He shakes his head after a moment, glancing at the new spell before looking back up at Mollymauk. “I have all of the components, I have not forgotten anything.”

“Oh, but you’re missing the most important one,” Molly tells him, gracefully sinking to his knees next to Caleb. He winks at the wizard as he leans closer, whispering conspiratorially, “Would you like me to tell you what it is?”

“Mollymauk, please, I don’t understand.” Caleb feels uncertainly creeping through his mind as he speaks; he has not attempted this spell before, and he  _ needs  _ for it to be absolutely perfect. 

“Sweetheart, don’t fret, it’s nothing bad.” The words are soothing, and Caleb feels some of his nerves settle as his partner reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. The touch is grounding, and Caleb feels a little calmer as he looks back down, beginning to count his components again. 

“I still don’t know–” his words dry up when a clawed finger rests gently under his chin, turning his back up towards Mollymauk. 

“Here, love,” Molly murmurs as he closes the space between them, and then there are warm lips pressing against his own. Mollymuak kisses him once, twice, three times, gentle and sweet, lingering, and Caleb accepts the affection greedily, reaches a hand out to gently curl around the tiefling’s hip. Mollymauk smiles as he pulls back just enough to catch Caleb’s gaze, sliding his hand up to cradle the other man’s jaw as he tells him, “There, a kiss for luck. Now you’re ready.”

Caleb is startled into quiet laughter, pleased when his partner’s grin grows wider at the sound. He ducks his head, thumb sliding over the soft material of Molly’s shirt before he pulls his hand away. He glances over the components one last time before leaning into the warm hand still on his jaw, looking up at Mollymauk with a soft smile. 

“You were right,” he says, sighing when Molly’s tail slips around his waist. Mollymauk’s gaze softens, and Caleb takes a deep breath before admitting quietly, “That was the most important one.”

Molly’s answering grin is like the sunrise, and Caleb is helpless to look away from the utter beauty in front of him. 

The spell will still be there when he looks back, he tells himself. He just wants to save this moment


	5. widomauk + kiss to distract

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: widomauk, 17. a kiss to distract

“Mollymauk?” Caleb’s voice cuts through the worry slowly, and Molly blinks once, twice, three times down at the cards in front of him before truly processing what he’s heard. He raises a hand half-heartedly, focus remaining on the images spread across the sheets. 

“Yes, dear?” He asks absently, listening as the man walks closer. The edge of the mattress dips under new weight, but Molly doesn’t look over, running a hand through his hair as he continues trying to pick apart the message in the reading. 

He doesn’t particularly like the idea that’s coming to mind. 

“You have been up here a while. We are getting ready for dinner,” Caleb murmurs, setting a gentle hand in between Molly’s shoulder blades, and the tiefling frowns, feels his tail twitch and curl towards the wizard. 

“I might be a little late,” he admits, sighing and reaching out blindly, patting Caleb on the thigh as he wraps his tail around the other man’s waist. “Just start without me, I’ll be down in a while.”

“Something the matter?” Molly can hear the frown in his partner’s voice, and he shakes his head slowly, reaching down to trace delicately across the border of a card. 

“Trying to figure that out. Go on, I’ll be down soon, sweetheart.” There’s a hum of acknowledgement, and the hand disappears from his back. Molly slides his tail away from Caleb, already slipping back into the single-minded focus of trying to piece together the full message of his tarot spread. 

A sudden press of lips to the corner of his mouth startles him out of the mindset entirely. 

When he turns to look, Caleb has a faint flush under the dusting of freckles on his nose and cheeks, a determined look in his eyes and a shy smile stretching across his mouth. 

“If you’re going to be late,” he starts, reaching up to gently curl his hand around the back of Molly’s neck, “you might as well let me offer a better distraction.”

“Why, Mr. Caleb, that might be the best idea I’ve heard all day.” Molly grins wide as he speaks, curling a hand in Caleb’s shirt and tugging him close.


	6. widomauk + distracting while reading

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: one of them trying to read and the other slowly trying to get them to put the book away w/ widomauk !
> 
> Please note, this one is a bit NSFW!

“Dear, have you slept at all yet?” Caleb startles at the sudden question, fingers tensing and tightening against the book in his lap. He looks over to see Molly rubbing a hand over his eyes, grinning up at him as he props himself up on an elbow. A dull heat begins to rise in his cheeks as he turns to glance at the candle, the melting wax revealing just how long he’s been up. 

“Ah, no. I may have lost track,” he admits, turning back towards his lover. Mollymauk laughs softly, shaking his head and placing his free hand on Caleb’s thigh. 

“I would say I’m surprised, but I do try not to lie to you.” There’s a cheerful smile on the tiefling’s face, and Caleb ducks his head, his own answering smile creeping slowly over his lips. His eyes find the the page he’d left off on, tracing back over words, but he doesn’t get far before Molly clears his throat. “You should really put that thing away, love.”

“Not tired yet,” Caleb murmurs, settling more fully back against the headboard. Molly hums acknowledgement, squeezing Caleb’s thigh gently. 

“Well,” he starts, and Caleb feels the blush come back,  _ knows  _ what that tone means for him. He can hear the grin in the words as Molly continues, “I can certainly think of a way to tire you out.”

“I am reading, Mollymauk.” His answer is automatic, almost conditioned; Caleb feels a shudder wind its way down his spine as Molly’s fingers tighten against his thigh, hot even through the thin blanket. There’s a chuckle, but Caleb keeps his eyes trained down on the book, mouth still curled up into a smile. 

He knows what will follow.

“Oh, sweetheart, I am so much more interesting than that book,” Molly tells him, and there’s more pressure on his leg as the tiefling shifts, weight transferring as he pulls himself up to sit. Caleb lets out a soft murmur of acknowledgement, re-reads the same sentence three times as fingers slide higher up his leg, stopping only when they hit the edge of the book. There’s a displeased huff next to him, and Caleb feels warm anticipation curl in his gut when Molly draws his hand away. 

“Something the matter?” He asks, forces himself to keep his words soft and even; he can’t help the gasp he lets out when Mollymauk suddenly licks up along his neck, forked tongue flicking against his earlobe as he lifts his head again.

“Not in the slightest, dear.” He sounds smug, and Caleb has to shut his eyes, fingers tightening once more on his book as Molly presses a hand to his sternum, slides long fingers over to rub over a nipple. There’s a mouth at the edge of his jaw, quick flash of teeth, and Caleb groans quietly, eyes snapping back open at the low chuckle his partner lets out. Heat rises in his face once more; he is unsure whether he wants to draw this game out, pretend to keep reading while Mollymauk does his best to drive him to begging, or whether he wants to just give in now, set his book aside and hand over all pretense at control. 

Both options are excruciatingly desirable.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Molly murmurs, and Caleb keens softly when the tiefling pinches his nipple, tugging sharply before letting go, hand dropping to splay over the open pages. Caleb finally turns his head to meet Molly’s gaze, tender and intense, and it takes his breath away, every damned time. His lover smiles slowly, fangs glinting in the low candlelight as he coaxes, “Come on, darling, let me take care of you.”

Caleb has not been good at saying no to Mollymauk in a very long time; he has not wanted to say no to Mollymauk in even longer. 

“Ja, okay,” he murmurs back, smile stretching slowly across his mouth, and Molly’s answering grin is dangerous, delighted, and Caleb is quick to snatch his book away, placing it carefully on the nightstand before it can be tossed away. Molly leans in to kiss the corner of his mouth, palms Caleb’s hardening cock through the blanket, making the human whine low in his throat. 

“Easy, love, I have you.” Molly licks into his mouth, then, kisses him slow and slick, until Caleb is dizzy with want, the headying lust that Mollymauk so often fills him with settling into his blood. 

Mollymauk was right, Caleb thinks distantly, as the kisses turn harder and faster and a touch desperate, as the blanket is shoved away and a tail begins to creep up his calf. Mollymauk was right. 

He is so much more interesting than any book ever could be.


	7. widomauk + proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: When I look at you all I can see are the mistakes we’re going to make (The future’s so bright) + Widomauk

“When I look at you, all I can see are the mistakes we’re going to make.” The words are little more than a murmur, and Molly is unsure for a long moment if he imagined them. He stirs slowly, blinking over at Caleb to try to get him in focus. The man is staring at him from the other side of the bed, pale in the moonlight, and Molly is still not entirely sure that he isn’t dreaming. 

“Sorry, what?” He asks, words a little rough and slurred with sleep, and he reaches out to place a hand on Caleb’s side, still trying to focus. His partner laughs quietly, moving forward until they’re sharing a pillow.

“The future is so bright, Mollymauk,” Caleb whispers, like it’s a secret or a prayer, and Molly feels his breath catch in his throat, an uncomfortable sting at the back of his eyes.

The person he was three years ago wouldn’t recognize the man in front of him. The person he is now is utterly astounded and grateful that they’ve managed to find their way here. 

“And full of mistakes?” He prompts gently, when they’ve lapsed back into silence and he’s afraid he may fall back asleep. Caleb hums quietly, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“We’ve made so many, separately, as a group, just the two of us, and it’s all led us here.” Caleb draws back as he speaks, until he can meet Molly’s gaze. “I can’t wait to see what future mistakes we will make together.”

“You big romantic,” Mollymauk teases, and if he sounds a little choked, well, Caleb has the decency not to call him on it immediately. “Did you just propose?”

“Perhaps,” and his smile turns a little bashful, his cheeks growing red under the scattered freckles, and Molly’s heart lurches. He has to lean in to kiss him, sliding his hand around to the small of Caleb’s back to press him closer. They part after a moment, both smiling too wide to continue, and Caleb’s eyes are shining as he asks, “Is that your answer?”

“Sweetheart, yes. Of course, yes. We’ve got so many mistakes left to make.”


	8. widomauk + reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: widomauk, "i said i love you" and "so, did you miss me?"
> 
> Post-battle, minor mentions of canon-typical violence, nothing graphic!

They’ve been separated for weeks, now, taking different routes to the same point, split into three groups to try and shake any followers. They’ve been separated for weeks, and they walk right into an ambush instead of a reunion, so Molly figures he can be allowed a little leeway for not quite processing what he’s just heard when the last body falls and Caleb turns to him to say  _ that. _

“Come again?” Mollymauk asks faintly, and Caleb swallows audibly, a wild look about his face, hair half fallen out of a messy ponytail and bandages singed.

“I said, I love you,” Caleb repeats, almost choked, eyes fierce and determined and honest. Mollymauk laughs, giddy and breathless, drops both swords and reaches out to cradle his face, drawing the wizard closer. 

“That’s the best fucking news I’ve heard all week,” he mutters, coiling his tail tightly around the man’s waist before pulling him in close enough to press their foreheads together. Caleb’s arms wrap around him, hands fisting in the back of his coat, and Molly sweeps his thumbs over the human’s cheeks before gently coaxing his head back, scruffy face turned up towards him. “I love you, too.”

Caleb inhales sharply before pressing up onto his toes, muttering something unflattering under his breath before catching Mollymauk’s’ mouth in a hard kiss. 

There is no finesse, the angle awkward, noses bumping together and teeth clacking, and Molly fucking loves it, doesn’t care. He tilts Caleb’s head a little more, angling his own just so, and oh, that’s better. Their mouths meet again, and again, Molly nipping at Caleb’s lower lip and taking advantage of the way his lips part around a soft moan, licking in with a purr. 

It is a long while before they part.

“So,” and he pulls away, just shy of gasping for breath, swiping his thumb over Caleb’s slick lower lip before letting a salacious grin cross his face, “did you miss me?”

The wizard just stares blankly at him for a moment before laughing tiredly, eyes shutting as he drops his head to the tiefling’s shoulder. Molly grins and begins to comb his fingers carefully through tangled red curls, lets his gaze scan over the field. 

Jester is leaning down to press a kiss to Beau’s head where the monk is slumped against Fjord on the ground, pressing her hand to Fjord’s shoulder, and it’s a comfort to watch the two relax as Jester’s healing spell washes over them. Caduceus is helping Nott pick used bolts from the ground and out of bodies, speeding up decomposition as he goes; Yasha is quick to pick Nott up when she starts peering up at a tree, bracing the goblin on her shoulders as she reaches up to pluck a wayward bolt from the the branches. 

It’s so fucking good to be home, Molly thinks, sliding his hand out of the human’s hair to cradle his partner’s neck instead, his tail squeezing gently around Caleb’s leg. 

It’s peaceful now, with the battle done, everyone trying to just catch their breath and take stock of themselves, of each other, finally reunited. If it were any louder, he is sure that he would miss when Caleb whispers into his neck, “Ja, you ass, I missed you.”

“I missed you, too, love,” he murmurs, squeezing the wizard’s neck gently. “Let’s not do that again anytime soon, hm?”

“Agreed.” Caleb finally lifts his head, leaning up to brush a kiss to the corner of Mollymauk’s mouth before settling back onto his heels. His lips quirk up into a smile before he slowly pulls away, turning to face their friends and summoning Frumpkin back into existence with a snap, the fae cat purring as it winds between his ankles. 

Molly takes a step forward and wraps his arm around Caleb’s shoulders, brushing a kiss to his temple. Their family is alive, and they are together again, and, his swords can wait, the loot can wait, exchanging information can wait. He thinks that maybe now things will be able to settle down for a few months, just a few. 

They’ve earned that.


	9. widomauk + sex with clothes half off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Person A seducing Person B into taking a few steps back/backing them against the wall (Oh look how did that mistletoe get there?) combined with 'sex with clothes half on'.
> 
> Please note, this is very NSFW!

Caleb shuts the door behind his friends, laughing still at the joke Jester had shouted as she’d walked into the snow with Beauregard. He flips both locks before turning to make his way back towards the kitchen, shutting lights off as he moves down the hall. 

Like most nights, his plan goes rather wayward once his husband gets involved. 

“Leave the dishes for the morning,” Mollymauk suggests, grinning as he steps into Caleb’s path in the living room, hands coming to settle on his waist. Caleb huffs out a laugh, raising an eyebrow up at the tiefling as he comes to a stop. 

“It would be better to do them now,” but his heart isn’t in it, and they both know. Molly grins like he’s already won, and as Caleb feels his lips begin to curl up into a reluctant smile, he has to admit that he has. 

“They’ll still be there in the morning, sweetheart. C’mon, there’s more fun we could still get up to tonight.” He tilts his head over so slightly as he talks, eyes going hooded and voice coaxing, and Caleb feels a thrill slide down his spine as Molly’s tail begins to curl around one of his thighs. 

Caleb licks his lips just to watch his husband’s gaze drop down to his mouth, reaches a hand out to press over the tiefling’s heart as he asks, “And what fun is that, Mollymauk?”

“To start with,” Molly grins as he speaks, taking one step forward, then another, and Caleb lets himself be herded back against the door frame, tipping his head back to rest against the corner of the wall as he stares up at his partner, “to start with, why don’t you look up?”

“That is an an odd– oh,” and he cuts himself off as his eyes land on the innocuous, parasitic plant hanging from the top of the doorway. “When did that get there?”

“Nott and Jester put it up while you were helping Yasha and Fjord divide cookies up.” Molly sounds smug, his tail rippling and tightening around Caleb’s thigh, and the human lets out a breathy laugh, turning his gaze back to his husband. “So what do you say, Caleb? Gonna give me that kiss?”

“Well, I suppose I do have to, don’t I?” He grins, curling his fingers into his husband’s shirt and reeling him in closer, reaching up to wrap his other hand around the back of the tiefling’s neck.

Mollymauk leans down but stops a hair’s breadth away, murmuring low into the air trapped between them, “Darling, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“Mein gott, stop being kind, shut up and kiss me,” Caleb demands, and his cheeks feel too hot, undoubtedly painted  red. He can hear Molly begin to laugh before he leans in to close the scant space between them, catching his lips in a languid kiss. 

There is no need for desperation these days; the heat simmers between them as their mouths meet again, and again, until Molly’s tail tightens just so, until Caleb lets out a quiet groan that has the tiefling grabbing at him tighter, licking into his mouth and trying to press in closer, one leg slipping between Caleb’s.

The sudden pressure of Molly’s thigh against his cock has Caleb breaking the kiss to whine, tipping his head back to struggle for breath as Molly ducks down to begin mouthing at his jaw, one hand sliding up under his sweater to splay against his skin, the other teasing along the waistband of his jeans. The tiefling nips at his neck, shuddering as Caleb lets out another whine, and he shoves his thigh closer, groaning when Caleb immediately rocks his hips against him. “Want something, sweetheart?”

“Stop, ah, stop trying to be cute,” he pants, tightening his grip on the back of his husband’s neck, and Mollymauk hums with pleasure, licking along the shell of his ear. He flicks open the button of his fly, shoving down the zipper before slipping his finger under worn boxers, and Caleb groans loudly as hot fingers curl around his cock. 

“Darling, I am always cute,” Molly murmurs, and Caleb can say nothing, can only rock his hips up in search of any kind of friction. His husband presses kisses over until he can brush their lips together, smiling slowly as Caleb just pants up at him, hips hitching instinctively. He is unbearably patronizing as he says, “Caleb, no need to rush. We have all night.”

“That we do, dear,” he agrees faintly, words almost choked, and he can only moan when Mollymauk strokes up, palms the damp head of his cock before slicking precome down in a slow slide that has him scrambling to begin undoing the buttons of the tiefling’s ridiculous shirt.  “No interest–oh, fuck– no interest in speeding up, then?”

“Oh, I don’t think so, sweetheart. There’s a lot of time, and I mean to make the most of it.” Molly continues to jack him off slow as he talks, grip just loose enough to tease, and Caleb fumbles as he finishes with the buttons, leans forward to bite at the exposed skin suddenly available to him. Mollymauk groans, tail tightening around his thigh; his voice is heavy with intent as he coaxes, “Trust me, Caleb. Let me take this slow, I’ll take such good care of you.” 

Yes, Caleb supposes, dazed and so turned on he can barely organize his thoughts, licking along his husband’s collarbone just to hear those pretty moans again, yes, he can certainly agree to that.


	10. mollymauk & beauregard + platonic kiss for comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: 20. beau & molly, kiss as comfort
> 
> Platonic, so very platonic, no shipping of these two to be found here!!!

“She’ll be back.” The words are quiet, but they still startle Beau, make her stiffen and straighten suddenly in her spot by the fire. There’s a huff of a laugh as Molly settles next to her, and Beau shakes her head, groaning softly and shoving her goggles up on her head. 

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” she tells him reproachfully, automatically looking him over in the dim firelight. There’s no fresh stains on the bandages around his midsection, but he still looks a little too haunted, holds himself a little too carefully. Molly flashes her a grin, shrugging a shoulder delicately at her comment. 

“What, and let you mope alone? Never.” His cheerful reply pulls a reluctant grin to her face, and Beau ducks her head, reaching out to gently shove at his thigh. Mollymauk catches her wrist instead, uses her own momentum to tug her into toppling against his side. He lets go immediately, wraps his arm around her shoulders and his tail around her hips, drapes it over their thighs with a content hum. 

“Molly–” Beau starts, but her friend cuts her off with a quiet laugh, squeezing her gently. 

“C’mon, Beau, lighten up a little. Yasha will be alright, she always is,” Mollymauk tells her, voice soft and fond, and Beau feels her throat close up a little, eyes stinging as she rests her temple against his shoulder. 

“Will you be?” The words spill out unbidden, and a horrible heat rises in her face as she swallows back the tears that have been threatening to spill since he fell against the sorcerer. Molly lets out a quiet, hurt sound, and Beau shuts her eyes, refuses to look as she feels him twist slightly to look down at her. 

“Of course I’ll be fine, Beau.” The words are quiet, sincere, and there’s a gentle brush of lips to her forehead that breaks something deep in her. “This isn’t like then, you know. I’ll be just fine, I promise. Not going to go anywhere this time.”

“Okay.” Beau feels Molly kiss her forehead again, and lets herself relax, accepting the comfort without hesitation. If she kisses his cheek before they wake Fjord for his watch, well. That’s no one else’s business but their own.


	11. Beaukeg + kiss on a scar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: 20. Beaukeg + kiss on a scar
> 
> Please note, there are very vague mentions in here of what happened in ep. 26 regarding Mollymauk if you aren't caught up or do NOT want to read that!!!

Beau catches sight of a scar along Keg’s jawline, leans in and presses a gentle kiss to it, lets the moment linger before pulling away.

“Thank you,” she says quietly, meeting the other woman’s gaze as she does. Keg smiles softly and nods once, doesn’t ask for her to explain, doesn’t push for more.

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” She says instead, already pulling out a cigarette, and Beau laughs, shakes her head and snatches it away once it’s lit, takes a long drag before she offers it back. Keg watches with interest as she blows circles up towards the ceiling.

“Yeah, count on it.” Beau feels something settle at the pleased smile Keg tries to hide, waits for the dwarf to look back at her again before nodding once. 

“Yeah, alright,” Keg nods as she talks, takes a drag of the cigarette and grabs her pack off the ground, weapons in place. “Take care of yourself, alright? Or let someone else, shit, you’re no good at it.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you,” Beau shoots back, laughing as she falls sideways onto the bed, stretching to ease the ache in her muscles. Keg hums appreciatively, giving her a once over before meeting her gaze again. Her eyes soften, turn more serious, and she takes a step closer, careful as she leans down to kiss a jagged scar on Beau’s shoulder.

“I mean it. I know you’re gonna take care of them. Let someone take care of you,” she says as she stands back up, and Beau’s heart aches with the rush of emotions she doesn’t want to name, doesn’t want to think of.

(molly’s laughing, somewhere, she’s sure. he probably fucking agrees, the dick)

“See you around, Keg,” she says instead, and Keg grins likes she understands, saluting her with two fingers before turning to head for the door. 

“Thanks, Beau,” and then she’s gone, the door shutting quietly behind her. Beau rolls over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling and listening as the sounds of clanking armor grow farther away. 

The sun is nearly up, and Beau knows that in a minute she’s going to get dressed and check on her friends, make sure that they’re still here and breathing and not okay, not really, but maybe one day they will be again. In a minute she’s going to tell them about Molly, she’s going to let them cry or ask questions or yell or– or leave, if any of them have to. In a minute, she’ll pretend she isn’t a mess and she doesn’t want to cry and she doesn’t want someone to hold her, just for a little, just to soften the world for a moment. 

For now, Beau reaches up to press her fingers to the scar Keg had kissed. She can give herself this minute, just for now. 


	12. beauyasha + a kiss in grief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: 12. beauyasha, a kiss in grief
> 
> Please note, there are direct mentions of what happened at the end of ep. 26 in regards to Mollymauk if you aren't caught up or do not want to read about that

“Where’s Molly?” Beau tenses before relaxing, shutting the door behind her as she sees Yasha sitting up in bed. She swallows hard, glancing at the lightening sky; she’d been hoping that there would be more time for her to prepare. 

“Yasha, I–” and she stops herself when Yasha swings her legs off the mattress, stops herself when she sees the storm brewing in the barbarian’s gaze.

“Beauregard, where is Mollymauk?” Yasha asks again, and Beau takes a few steps forward, wishing she’d pulled her hair up, pulled herself more together.

“I’m sorry, Yasha, he–” and she falters, can’t find the words, can’t bring herself to say it, not again. It’s too real.

“Please.” The word quiets the panic in Beau’s mind, Yasha’s voice cutting across all doubt. She takes a deep breath and nods, keeps their gazes locked as she continues to walk forward.

“He’s three days travel from here, under his coat. Lorenzo, uh, Lorenzo killed him. I wasn’t good enough to stop him,” she admits, and she wonders for a moment, if this makes her as bad as the Shepherds, if this is worse than the torture they put her through.

“No.” Yasha shakes her head as she speaks, muscles tense and posture stiff, and Beau swallows hard, stops walking.

“Yasha, I’m sorry, he–” but she’s cut off, Yasha shooting to her feet.

“ _ No _ .” The word is almost spat out, loud, and Beau shakes her head, almost reaching out before letting her hands fall back to her sides.

Yasha, plea–” She tries again, but Yasha shakes her head, stopping her as she cuts through.

“Where is my friend.” It’s a demand, not a question, and Beau can only answer in the same fashion, wonders if it wouldn’t just be better to lie instead. 

“He’s dead, Yasha.” 

Black tattered wings unfurl, stretching wide as the light in the room seems to dim, Yasha’s eyes growing dark as night. Beau stands her ground, tensing and bracing herself as Yasha slowly takes a step forward; she flexes her hands, reminds herself not to touch even as she aches to steady the other woman, to reach out and hold on.

“How?” It’s not a question, not really, but Beau swallows hard, feels that familiar swirl of guilt in her stomach, bile rising up in her throat.

(molly is crying, somewhere, over his best friend’s grief. he’s crying over beauregard’s, too)

“Lorenzo killed him while he was down.” She licks her lips, tipping her head up as Yasha closes the small distance between them, staring into those void-like eyes that seem to see nothing but know everything. Beau takes a shaky breath before she continues, “And I couldn’t stop him. I’m so sorry, Yasha.”

The wings are gone as suddenly as they’d appeared, black bleeding away to show Yasha’s bright eyes once more, and then Beau braces herself again as the larger woman collapses towards her. 

“Woah! Hey, I got you. I got you, Yasha. I’m sorry,” Beau tries to sooth, wraps an arm around Yasha’s midsection and slides her other hand into the barbarian’s hair. She can’t handle their combined weights, has felt shaky on her legs since she finally got dressed after Keg left, and so she lowers them as carefully as she can, until she’s kneeling on the floor, Yasha half splayed over her and between her legs. Beau can feel her shoulder growing damp, can feel Yasha shaking with the force of her tears, and another bitter part of her heart cracks fresh. 

“ _ No _ ,” and the word is whispered, broken, filled with so much grief that Beau can barely stand it. Yasha sobs, then, heaving gasps and harsh cries, tears spreading through Beauregard’s shirts. Beak keeps stroking her hair, shuts her eyes as she works to keep her own emotions in check. 

It doesn’t work.

She loses a little time, unsure of what she’s murmuring to Yasha, focuses on the ache in her knees, on sliding her fingers through Yasha’s tangled hair again and again, on doing her best to hold them both together. 

Yasha’s tears stop, eventually, and she begins to move, pulling away as she shifts to kneel in front of Beau. Beau lets go reluctantly, hands dropping to her own lap, and she doesn’t realize that she’s been crying herself until Yasha hesitantly reaches out to cup her cheek, thumb swiping and smearing wetness across her skin. 

“He’s dead,” she murmurs, and Beau nods, sucks in a shuddering breath and swallows hard.

“Yeah. But so is Lorenzo, they all are.” Yasha nods, sorrow heavy on her features. 

She doesn’t take her hand off Beau’s cheek.

“Thank you,” Yasha says, quietly, voice still hoarse, and Beau doesn’t know what she means, doesn’t deserve to be thanked, but before she can protest Yasha’s leaning down, pressing a soft kiss to her mouth. 

It tastes of salt, and grief, and hesitant acceptance. 

It tastes of hope. 


	13. kegregard + kiss out of habit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: 48. kegregard, kiss out of habit
> 
> Please note, there is a bit of canon-typical violence in this one! 
> 
> Featuring: Beauregard, Keg, Jester

“Hey, asshole! Incoming!” Beau just hears Keg over the screams of the man Jester has just burned. She turns around, sees a woman running her way, bloody and bruised already, Keg struggling to keep up. Beau grins, spits blood to the side, and waits for just the right moment to swing her staff out, clotheslining the paladin before she can get any further. 

“Sorry, you going somewhere?” She asks, grinning down at the woman choking and gasping for air, sword falling from her hand. Beau steps down on her wrist, doesn’t stop until she hears the crack of bones, glancing up as Keg’s clanking comes closer. The dwarf laughs and shakes her head, hefting her hammer up onto her shoulder and nodding at her. 

“Thanks for the catch. You mind?” She asks, gesturing towards the struggling woman on the ground, and Beau shakes her head, planting her staff on the ground and leaning into it.

“Be my guest.” Keg grins, nodding before swinging her axe down, and the choking sounds stop abruptly. Beau hums absently and turns to glance around, watches Caduceus heading over to check on Fjord, Jester skipping over towards Nott, Caleb raising his hand up for Frumpkin to swoop down and land on it. When she looks back at Keg the dwarf is smiling at her cockily, both weapons slung back into their holsters. 

“Looks like I saved you assholes again, huh?” She says, and Beau laughs, shakes her head and swings her staff over her shoulders, hanging her wrists over it as she walks towards the smaller woman. 

“Yeah, guess so. You got good timing.” Keg shrugs a shoulder, grinning wider and glancing over the rest of the party, hands resting on her hips. 

“Yeah, well. Where’s your girl?” She asks as she turns her attention back to Beau, and Beau feels something in her chest settle, takes another step closer to close the gap between them. 

“Called away. She’ll be back soon,” she says, and Keg nods, reaching up one gauntleted hand to tug at her torn vest. Beau sighs, shrugging and glancing down at the rip. “Eh, I’ll get that fixed, the cut’s not that bad. Anyway, Yasha’s gonna be bummed she missed you this time.”

“There’s always next time,” Keg says, grinning and tugging on her vest again. “C’mere, I won this time.”

“I mean, I think I kind of let you,” Beau tells her, smiling slyly, and Keg just groans, rolling her eyes and tugging hard enough to make Beau lean down. 

“God, why do I still think you’re attractive?” Beau doesn’t get a chance to respond to the jab, finds herself humming contently against Keg’s mouth instead. The kiss is a little smoky, a little rough, Keg’s stubble scraping pleasantly against her chin. It’s habit, now, kissing after battle together, the gentle affection and rush of energy pulling them together again and again. 

“Heyyyy, quit it! Beau I can see you bleeding, come over here already!” Beau laughs against Keg’s lips, finds herself gasping a second later when Keg uses the chance to lick into her mouth. It’s hot and filthy for a brief moment, and then the dwarf releases her, grins and winks up at her as Beau straightens up, a little more lightheaded than before. 

“So, uh, you think you can help us find somewhere to stay tonight?” She asks, more out of breath than she’d like to sound as she turns to walk towards her friends, and Keg falls in line, humming in mock contemplation. 

“I mean, I guess I could?” She’s laughing before she even finishes the statement, and Beau grins, shakes her head as she glances at the dwarf out of the corner of her eye. Keg pulls a cigarette out, searching for a match as she says, “You looking for company tonight?”

“Yeah, I am,” Beau says simply, and Keg grins, lights up and takes a long drag. 

“Habits die hard, huh?” Smoke curls from between her lips as she speaks, and Beau hums in agreement, smile widening a little more. 

“Yeah. Not all of them are so bad, though.”


	14. beauyasha + a kiss to shut them up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: 7. beauyasha, a kiss to shut them up

Yasha sighs softly, cracking one eye open and looking across the room. Beau is sitting on the bed, half-dressed and still soft from sleep, humming in her throat as she pulls a needle through the tear in her robe, halfway through a careful row of stitches. 

The sound of rain on the window behind her settles her a little more, and Yasha shuts her eye again, centering herself with a slow exhale as she resumes her meditation. She focuses on the crack of thunder, lets the sound move through her veins slowly, working to block out all other noise. 

It does not work, not quite. 

Beau’s humming is quiet, but Yasha can hear it as clearly as though it were right next to her, as if the other woman was draped over her back. 

It’s very distracting. Beau is always, always, very distracting. 

“Do you mind?” She asks as she opens her eyes, keeps her voice impassive and her face calm, does not let into the smile that threatens at the corners of her mouth when Beau looks over to meet her gaze. Her partner furrows her brow, leaves the needle buried in fabric.

“Do I mind, what?” Beau asks, and Yasha rolls her shoulders back once, knows that her meditation is certainly over.

(it has been over since Beau  woke, really. she will not be called away today)

“Your humming. I cannot focus when you do that,” she tells her, slowly rising to her feet; Yasha enjoys the way Beau watches her, soft contentment and sparking desire plain on her face. 

“Well, what do you want me to do about that?” Beau grins as she asks, setting her robe to the side, and Yasha has to bite back a laugh, shaking her head as she begins to walk forward. 

She enjoys this game. 

“I would like you to stop, please,” she says, and Beau shrugs, humming again as she leans back against the headboard. Yasha cannot hold back a small smile at the outright attempts to goad her. 

“Hmm, no,” Beau tells her, tipping her head back to keep their gazes locked as Yasha comes to a stop next to the bed. Yasha rests a knee on the bed, and Beau hums appreciatively before saying, “You could always make me, though.”

“Gladly.” Yasha leans down as she says the word, finds Beau’s smiling lips with her own and kisses her softly, settling a hand on Beau’s waist. Her partner responds immediately, wrapping an arm around Yasha’s shoulders and parting her mouth, sighing contentedly when Yasha licks in against her tongue.

Yasha likes this game, yes. She likes when they both win.


	15. kegyasha + a kiss hello

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Keg/Yasha + a kiss hello

Keg shuts the door quietly behind herself, takes careful steps away from the room until she’s sure she won’t wake Beau. She makes her way down the stairs, cataloging new aches as she does. The inn’s owner is bleary eyed when she nods towards Keg, the dwarf weaving easily through tables towards the door without the bulk of her armor. 

She almost wishes she’d worn the damn armor when she rounds the inn’s corner into what may as well be a brick wall. 

“Careful. Are you leaving?” A steady voice asks, and Keg huffs an almost laugh as she steadies herself, craning her neck back to look up at Yasha.

“Hi, Yasha. No, I’m not leaving, I was just, um,” and she pauses here, reaches up to rub at the heavy stubble on her jaw. Her cheeks feel warm as she continues, “I was just, uh, just. Going to the bakery.”

“Is that the one Beau’s been talking about?” Yasha asks, lips ticking up into a small smile, and Keg feels a little thrill of satisfaction even as her blush darkens. 

“Yeah, probably. Took her and Jester last time we all came through, they liked the sticky buns.” Yasha nods, and Keg itches to reach out, check her over, make sure she’s okay. 

“Looks like I missed some fun,” the taller woman remarks, reaching out to gently trace below a scrape on Keg’s cheek, and she wants to laugh a little at the non sequitur, the familiarity of it. Keg means to respond, but instead she just loses her breath when Yasha drops her hand down to gently press her thumb against a hickey. The aasimar hums softly, gaze going a little hooded as she murmurs, “Maybe I missed a lot of fun.”

“Well, if you guys are sticking around one more night, I think we can make sure you don’t miss out again,” Keg says, just a little more breathless than she intends, and one of these days she swears she’s gonna be able to stay some semblance of collected when this woman is around.

“I would like that,” Yasha says, slides her hand around to cup the back of Keg’s neck as she ducks down to kiss her softly. Keg reaches up to wrap her arms around the larger woman’s shoulders immediately, kissing her back slow and easy like she knows the other woman prefers. Yasha’s callouses are a little rough against her neck, her lips a little chapped, and Keg lets herself sink into the sensations for a moment, content to kiss and be kissed with no real urgency or motive. 

Keg likes how Yasha says hello. She’s always been a woman of action over words, too.


	16. beauyasha + a kiss out of jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: 48. Beauyasha, kiss out of envy/jealousy
> 
> Featuring: Beauregard, Yasha, Keg

It’s rather stupid. 

She knows it’s stupid, this ugly heat in her stomach, but Yasha can’t shake the feeling as she watches her friends across the bar. Jester’s almost-successfully leading Caleb in a waltz, Nott is successfully beating Caduceus and Fjord at cards, and Beau– well. 

Beau is still laughing at whatever story Keg is telling, now. 

She has tears of mirth in her eyes, laugh loud and cutting clear through the noisy tavern, and Yasha can feel her lips curl up in response. 

Her smile falls away when Beau reaches out to brace a hand against Keg’s shoulder.

Yasha hates jealousy; she still cannot shake it off.

She wishes she could pretend she doesn’t know why the feeling is taking hold of her tonight, but Molly’s laugh in the back of her mind is a sharp reminder that it would not be true (he’s telling her off, somewhere, she’s sure of it). 

Keg grins up at Beau, hand reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and Yasha burns. 

It is unfair, she knows; her own emotions have been unspoken, locked in her throat for weeks now, and she enjoys Keg’s company whenever their paths happen to cross. These women are her friends, and she is utterly content with that, it is more than she deserves. Yasha wants them to be happy, in whatever way they can be, and if they find that happiness in each other, she  _ wants _ to be happy for them.

It is not as easy as she would like it to be.

“Here ya go, love.” The harried barwoman slams three tankards in front of her, off to the next rowdy customer before Yasha can offer her thanks, and the aasimar is left feeling more unsettled than before. She frowns down at the beer, rolling her shoulders back before grabbing the three mugs, carefully making her way over to the two seated women.

Beau’s smile brightens as she approaches the table, and Keg turns to give her a lazy grin, reaching out to carefully take one of the tankards from her with a nod. 

“Thanks, Yasha,” Beau says warmly, face flushed with joy and booze, and Yasha feels her cheeks heat, can’t help but smile as she offers one of the remaining drinks. 

“Of course, Beauregard.” She sits in the chair on Beau’s other side, taking a slow pull from her beer.

“Oh, man, Keg, you gotta tell Yasha about that fucking bard!” Beau shoves at Keg with her free hand, knocking back half her drink before slamming it back on the table. She wipes at her mouth, grinning as she continues, “It’s fuckin’ wild.”

“It was nothing, Beau,” the dwarf says, laughing and rolling her eyes, rubbing a hand along the heavy stubble on her chin. She meets Yasha’s eyes, shaking her head as she continues, “Swear to all fuck, does she always exaggerate so much when she’s been drinking?”

“Yes,” Yasha replies, lips twitching into a crooked smile, and Beau gapes, reaching back to elbow Keg’s shoulder. 

“Shut up!” She laughs, and Yasha’s heart stutters at the sound. Keg knocks Beau’s arm away, and Beau drops her hand back, squeezes Keg’s knee clumsily even as she beams at Yasha. “Seriously, Yasha, you’ll love it.”

Yasha tightens her hand around her drink, tankard creaking in warning, and feels something in her chest snap.

“I’d love something else, first,” she hears herself say, and knows what will happen before it does. Yasha feels as though she has stepped out of her body, like she has no control of her muscles; she feels herself lean forward, watches Beau’s eyes spark with something and her mouth fall open, and she can faintly hear Keg choking on her drink as she catches Beau’s lips in a slow, slick kiss. 

It is everything she wants, and everything she should not have done. 

Yasha breaks away as suddenly as she’d leaned in, drawing her hands away from Beau’s jaw like they’ve been burned (when did she put them there, she doesn’t remember moving them). Beau is staring, eyes wide, mouth red and wet and pretty. 

“Holy shit,” Keg says, delighted grin on her face, and Yasha tastes regret on the back of her tongue. The dwarf reaches out, smacking Beau on the bicep as she crows, “You owe me five gold, kid!”

“I’m sorry, I should never have–” she wants to apologize, needs to, but Beau shakes her head, cutting her off.

“No! God, please don’t be sorry.” Yasha blinks at the ferocity in her friend’s words, but then Beau lets out something like a laugh, and Yasha feels something like hope rising up in her chest. “You should totally do that again. Definitely. Like, whenever you want.”

“Oh. I would like that.” She lets herself smile, and feels everything settle at the answering gleam in Beau’s eye.

“Me too,” and Beau nods fervently as she speaks, reaching a hand out to curl around Yasha’s forearm, smile blooming lovely and wide across her face. 

Jealousy is an ugly thing. Yasha hears Molly laughing in her head, sees Beauregard smile like a tentative future, and realizes, as Keg slaps them both on the back, that jealousy is a useless, futile emotion. 

Beau leans in to kiss the corner of her mouth, Keg whistling between her teeth, and Yasha smiles. Jealousy is a useless emotion; she doesn’t think it is one she will be feeling again soon.


	17. caleb widogast & the mighty nein + a softer future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no prompt for this one, just a little drabble. titled on tumblr as: 'in at least one timeline, they're allowed a soft future'
> 
> Featuring: Caleb Widogast & The Mighty Nein, implied widofjord

Regrets are not something new to him.

There are hundreds, thousands that constantly bounce around in his brain, cluttering and cloying, threatening to climb into his throat and his lungs and choke him until he is left breathless from their heavy weight and bitter taste.

He knew, coming into a group like this, that he would not stop having them, not stop making new ones, and oh, how he has. They stack on the old, fresh wounds layered over aching scars, and he wishes he could do better, wishes he could be better, knows it is not worthing voicing. Regrets cloud his judgement, some days, fill his senses until he is struck dumb and motionless on others.

Caleb could construct his life out of regrets, he thinks, point a to point b to point z, but perhaps–

Well.

He could construct his life out of regrets, if not for the unexpected changes over the years with the Nein. He could construct his life out of regrets, but–

Fjord’s hand in his hair, coaxing his head back so the half-orc can press gentle kisses down his neck, his eyes crinkled as he smiles, and–

Beauregard slumped into him, her cheek pressed to his shoulder, tiredly laughing as he supports her with a chuckle, and–

Caduceus pressing a hot cup of tea into his hands, gentle smile on his face as he listens, eyes bright as he discusses a new book, and-

Yasha offering him her small book, showing new flowers from her travels, no sword at her back as they talk well into the night, and–

Mollymauk steering him through the local market, linking their arms and chattering about a new magical goods shop, warm and bright and alive, and–

Jester floating next to him in the sea, fingers threaded together as she points out shapes in the clouds, making up stories as they go, and–

Nott making dinner with him in the kitchen, no bandages on either of them, her smile bright and relaxed and a sly joke on her tongue that has him in stitches, and–

A home, patched together with materials old and new, furniture mismatched and handmade, large enough for them all to share, still with room to breathe.

Caleb could construct his life out of regrets, but, well. He thinks he would prefer to construct his life out of the memories, successes and failures, that have led him here, instead. It is late, and a warm night, and the stars are vast overhead.

Nott is perched on Caduceus’s shoulders, weaving flowers into his hair, humming a tune that the firbolg has begun tapping his fingers to; Jester is dancing Beau around the grass just beyond the porch, sneaking sweet kisses as she does; Molly is sat on the porch steps behind Yasha, his arms draped over her shoulders, nearly asleep as the woman points out constellations; and Fjord is sitting next to Caleb on the porch swing, their fingers laced together, smile stretched over his mouth as he watches his husband with a quiet fondness.

Caleb has enough regrets for this lifetime. It is about time, he thinks, that he finally has as many memories built of hope and contentment to balance them out.

Caleb could construct his life out of regrets, yes. He would much rather construct them out of the memories his family have helped him create instead.


	18. the mighty nein + uncertainties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not a prompt, just something i wrote recently on tumblr. 
> 
> this is not particularly happy

  1. You are scared and you do not understand, still, you are trying to learn but there are just murky waters all around you, you keep falling under, you do not know where this path will lead but maybe if you finish it everything will be fine, maybe if you finish your friends will be safe again, maybe if you finish you will be allowed to stay, you will not be wrenched away, you will not lose all of yourself, you will not lose them
  2. You are a coward, but you have always been a coward and this will not change, you do not understand but your friends, they are your friends, they have dreams and they have goals and you will help and maybe you can change, maybe you can become something better someday if you just help enough, if you keep them alive, no matter of your own safety, never worry about your own safety
  3. You do not deserve this, you do not deserve any of this, do not deserve any of them, but here you are, here you are and you are forgetting yourself, you will ruin them all if you are not careful, just as you ruined it all before, and you want to be better, you have to learn to be be better, but you can help them and still succeed, can’t you, you just need a little more time and it will be fine, you will all be fine
  4. You are followed by ghosts, you are living with ghosts, hear echoes in your head, and you are always called away, just when you think you could settle, and you are tired of leaving, tired of running, you would like to stay but you do not deserve to, maybe if you fight enough you will deserve to, maybe if you keep protecting them you will deserve to, maybe if you stay long enough you will stop being a ghost
  5. You have never known doubt like this, never like this, you thought there was a sign but perhaps it was just your loneliness, your desire for companions again after so many seasons without your family, you wanted a sign so you saw a chance and took it, but you have heard so little, there is no clear path ahead of you and you think you are lost and you would like to be found, please, you want to be found
  6. You have stumbled and you have drowned and you were left behind, you could have died, but He was there, He was there and He needs you happy so you keep smiling, you keep laughing and maybe if you smile wide enough you will never be left again, maybe if you smile wide enough you will stop fraying at the edges, you will be better for them all, they will want to keep you, they will not leave you
  7. You have never been allowed this before and it is terrifying, things are breaking all around you, you try to grab tight but you cannot fix everything, cannot fix anything, you can only follow as they push ahead, you try not to let one more thing slip through your fingers, you are hurtling towards uncertain goals and you just want to keep them all safe, you have another chance at family, please, you just want them to hold onto you, too



you are a study of converging fault lines, but you have always known how not to break


	19. jester + orientation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: 24. jester + orientation

jester isn’t really aware of a lot of things, growing up. not that she doesn’t learn things, because she does– her mother is a good teacher, as it the traveler eventually, and there’s always conversations to listen to, books to read, stories to hear. but jester isn’t aware of all things– she doesn’t know that some people like to put a label on how others feel and think, a lot, like wow a lot, some people really have a thing for labels, huh? 

jester doesn’t understand it, really, but hey! different people like different things, and different can be good! after all she’s pretty different, and so are her new friends (friends! she has multiple friends! who all really like her for her!), so who is she to judge what people do? but when beau asks what her orientation is, jester doesn’t really get it, at first. nott makes a face but stays still where yasha’s putting flowers into the messy braid jester made, and caleb sinks down a little lower behind his book, but fjord and molly both look interested. she likes her friends’ attention, likes learning more about them, likes camping (but boy will she be glad to be out of a tent and back in a bed, soon). 

beau asks again, a little gentler and a little less brash, gives a sort of fumbling explanation before molly cuts in, and oh, is that all they wanted to know? jester laughs, has to, because why didn’t beau just ask! she doesn’t use labels, doesn’t understand them, still, because jester wasn’t raised with the, was raised with openness and honesty and hope, but she still answers best she can. people, she tells her friends, she likes people, all kinds, regardless of gender or race, regardless of size or stature. she thinks it’s a good answer, and her friends, well– nott still has a look on her face, like she doesn’t understand at all, but yasha seems a little wistful, and caleb’s dropped his book a little, and fjord and beau and molly all have these little smiles on their faces, so that must mean they think it’s a good answer, too. 

orientation is something she’s never thought to label,  jester thinks she could get used to the word molly supplies her with, likes the way it rolls off her tongue and the little chime that goes off in her head, another piece to a puzzle that she’s still trying to work together. 


	20. jester + sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: 27. jester + sleep
> 
> man, you can tell i wrote this a while ago since Kiri is in it!

jester hates sleeping alone. it’s so hard, when she leaves nicodranas at first– travelling alone is awful, and it takes her hours to try and fall asleep, no one else breathing, no one nearby that she knows. she twists and turns, wraps her arms tight around herself, clings to a pillow and curls her tail around one of her legs and prays to the traveler for a companion, someone, anyone, soon. 

jester hates sleeping alone, but the traveler hears her prayers and soon she has one, two, six new traveling companions! and sure, maybe yasha has to leave a lot, and maybe she isn’t really sure if caleb and nott are going to stay, not right away, but that’s six new people who are traveling with her, six new people who will be nearby when she sleeps. 

she likes it best when they have to share space, if she’s being honest (she tries to be honest, always– she doesn’t see the point in lying, really, doesn’t see the point in holding back. truth is easy, and it’s nice, and if she gives honesty enough maybe one day she will receive it in return). 

she likes sharing a bed with beau, and later kiri, likes the soft breathing and the quiet chirps, likes the way beau always ends up with a hand on her arm or side, likes that beau doesn’t object to jester wrapping arms around her and spooning behind her when one of them has dreams they won’t mention, likes that kiri will burrow in between them and fluff her feathers around. 

she likes sleeping near nott, likes the little snores the goblin lets out and the comforting sounds of her turning and pushing blankets to make a nest for herself, likes that sometimes when it’s too cold and caleb is on watch without her, nott will creep closer and sleep with her back pressed to jester’s. 

she likes when yasha shares a room with them, likes the calming presence the other woman exudes, likes watching her and beau stumble and dance around each other, words halting and awkward and earnest. jester likes that yasha never says a word if jester wakes up in tears, just invites her to watch a storm and lets jester fall back asleep leaning into her, blanket wrapped around them both. 

she likes sharing a bed with molly, likes wrapping their tails together and passing out with maybe a little much liquor in her veins, likes giggling and teasing and being able to speak infernal again, likes that he’s gentle and kind when she burrows into him with an aching homesickness. 

she likes sharing a tent with caleb, later on, because he is quiet and he is soft and he will share frumpkin with her when she needs the comfort, will sigh and snap his fingers and will ask questions, will let her talk and spill and will only shift a little awkwardly as he tries not to fall asleep, tries to pay attention. he’s very bad at comfort, but jester appreciates that he lets her hold his hand when they eventually slip into unconsciousness. 

she likes sleeping with fjord, likes draping her tail across his thighs while she sprawls against his chest, giggles at the way he snores when he’s flat on his back. she likes that he automatically wraps an arm around her, likes that he’ll let her wrap her arms around him and cling tight, likes that he hunkers down and tries to make himself small and presses his face into her neck after a nightmare.

jester does not like to sleep alone. she thinks, at least for a while, now, that she will not have to.


	21. vaxilmore + (happy) kiss because they're running out of time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: 38. Vaxilmore, kiss because they're running out of time
> 
> This sounds morbid but I promise, it absolutely isn't!
> 
> Featuring: Shaun Gilmore, Vax'ildan, and some de Rolo quarter-elf children

“Hey, c’mere,” and when Shaun turns there’s Vax, eyes sparking with something that looks like trouble, sweet smile on his face as he crooks a finger towards himself. Shaun shakes his head even as he walks closer, grinning slowly as his husband curls a hand into his robe, leaning back against the castle wall and tugging him closer. 

“Can I help you?” The question comes out far more amused than he’d intended, and Vax smiles wider, tipping his head back and winking up at him. 

“Well, I was just thinking that you are especially handsome when you look so determined, so why not see you a little closer up?” Shuan has to laugh, leaning an arm against the wall to cage the smaller man in as he ducks down, pressing a smiling kiss to Vax’s cheek. 

“Darling, I am a little busy right now,” he murmurs, but he does nothing to stop Vax when the half-elf turns enough to catch his mouth in a sweet kiss. 

“Surely you can spare a moment,” Vax says, nudging their noses together, and Shaun sighs, settles his free hand on his husband’s waist just to feel the way the man presses into the touch unconsciously. He opens his mouth to protest when Vax tugs gently on his robes, voice quiet as he murmurs, “Please, Shaun.”

“Oh, you wretched thing,” Shaun says, and there’s just enough space to catch the wicked smile crossing Vax’s face before he closes the distance between them. Shaun kisses him slow, unhurried, presses him back into the wall takes his time, hand lazily stroking over the other man’s sides. He’s unsure how much time passes, but he’s sure he still has long enough to–

“We win! We win!” “Ha! You didn’t find us in time, Uncle Shaun!” “Thanks for the help, Uncle Vax!”

Oh. 

“You traitor,” he accuses fondly, straightening up to stare down at his husband. Vax grins up at him, winking and wiping at his own mouth before turning to look at the three children down the hall, making shooing motions with his hands. 

“Go on, then, go get your parents! We’ll get Trinket and meet you outside,” he calls out, sending the three de Rolos running with delighted shrieks. Vax turns his smile back up at Shaun, pushing up onto his toes to press a kiss to his jaw. The sorcerer laughs, sliding his hand to rest at the small of Vax’s back, holding him closer. 

“You’re a menace,” he says, and Vax laughs quietly, shrugging and pressing another kiss to his jaw. 

“You like it.” The words are matter of fact, blunt, and Shaun hums contentedly, tilting his head down to press a kiss to his husband’s temple. 

“I do, love. I really do.”


End file.
